


infatuation

by jxshua



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Heavy Angst, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, angst af bc why not, infidelity i think, model mingyu hell yeah, photographer wonwoo, uhh love triangle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 01:19:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13043532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jxshua/pseuds/jxshua
Summary: maybe, just maybe.mingyu and wonwoo were never meant for each other.





	1. part one

Soft damask sunrays beamed into the room, casting mellow shadows over the glossy parquetted floors. Thin milky curtains fluttered in the gentle breeze over the wide gaping windows. A lanky figure sat curled atop of the mattress, his limbs tangled with the white sheets and blankets.

Carding his lithe fingers through his dark locks, he staggered sleepily out of bed and advanced towards the balcony. He tugged the sheets around his bare frame, staring blankly out at the ocean carpeting his sight. A salty breath of wind tingled against his lips, and he slowly soaked in the view.

The beautiful cerulean waters crashed ashore in waves of bubbles, the pale vermeil skies and the horizons swallowing up the sun and mountains. Serenity engulfed his senses, calming him to the bones.

He picked up an indistinct rustling sound and footsteps pattering across the room. A familiar scent and warmth enveloped his form, and his lashes steadily fluttered shut. The latter nosed onto the column of his neck, breathing out a sigh of content.

“You’ll catch a cold out here, Wonwoo,” the man muttered, unravelling his arms from the brunet’s frame, “Let’s return to bed,”

He relented. The young man turned away from the ocean and gracefully swept back in, sliding back under the covers to join his lover. With their limbs intertwined, they snuggled with pillows cushioning their bodies and thick duvets tucked around them. Wonwoo could feel his heart racing in his chest as he shared an intense gaze with the other.

“Mingyu,” he whispered, “I’ll miss you,”

The latter smiled.

Flecks of sunshine pervaded his warm umber irises, glimmering like the stars in the velvety midnight skies. He possessed a golden bronze complexion, which contrasted harmoniously with his slicked blonde hair, and a faint rosy tinge painting his curled lips. The man was no ordinary beauty.

He seemed to emit a mysterious ethereal glow that immersed the world in a radiant celestial light, and Wonwoo wouldn’t be surprised if he was an actual angel.

“You need to return soon, don’t you?” Wonwoo muttered; his voice thick with drowsiness.

“When dawn breaks, my love,”

“Mm, it’s late. You should go,”

“Won’t you give me another kiss before I depart?”

They held hands and kissed with a longing, fervent desire. Nothing could break this moment of intimacy. The two young men were utterly in love and the fact that they could not stay with each other brought them great pain. Eventually, as expected, Mingyu had to reluctantly part from his lover to wash up and clothe himself. It was unpleasant.

They stood on the balcony in reassuring silence, simply basking in the zephyr and watching as the sunlight spilled over the ocean. It was time. Mingyu climbed over the deck and blew a playful kiss at the other.

“See you soon, my dear little puppy,”

Wonwoo laughed.

“You’re gross,”

The blonde male deftly scrabbled down from the beach house, scrambling past rocks and roots before landing on his bare feet and sprinting down the stretch of sand hurriedly. The brunet watched as his shadow dissipated from sight. He sighed, suppressing an uneasy feeling in his gut. The man retreated into his room.

Wonwoo was certain that they would never see each other ever again.

And they never did.

 

“Good morning Junhui,” Wonwoo murmured, ensconced on the couch while assembling his camera lenses.

A beauteous young man with dishevelled lilac locks and captivating umber eyes burst into the room, garbed in scruffy clothing. He grunted in acknowledgement and dropped a paper bag filled with groceries on a nearby desk, rummaging and making a complete mess of the clothing racks. Wonwoo sighed.

“Hey contrary to what you think, this place isn’t your home y’know,” he grumbled, dragging the curtains apart to welcome an abundance of sun into the room.

“I spend like 12 hours a day here, it definitely is,” Junhui nonchalantly responded, yanking out a few articles from the clothing stand, “Theme?”

“Monochrome,”

“Gotcha. I’ll be ready in fifteen,”

Junhui was his favourite piece, so to speak. A fine quintessential model in his early twenties, he held a slender dashing figure, with cutting cheekbones and a flawless sense of fashion. His entire life had been devoted to the modelling industry and when he turned twenty, he invested in becoming a freelancer with preference in selective projects.

But ever since they met, Junhui had maintained his utmost loyalty to Wonwoo.

“Why?” Wonwoo had once asked, “You hate me,”

Junhui had simply shrugged in response.

Wonwoo was abit of a perfectionist, with smoothened edges and corners. He expected order in his life. Which meant that every single strand of his hair had to be in place, his workplace was to be spick and span, and his clothing were to be scrupulously clean and ironed with every inch of its life.

But Junhui, on the other hand, was a complete _slob_. He was slovenly, ate his meals over the sink with his bare hands like an animal and slept on the couch with chips spilled over his chest. He spent all his cash on cigarettes, pizza and light alcohol. Even so, Wonwoo came to…like him.

Because all quirks aside, the two young men coordinated with each other perfectly and found ease together.

“Are you done yet?” the brunet shouted from across the studio.

“Can’t your sorry ass wait two seconds?” Junhui yelled.

He yanked the curtains aside and stepped out of the changing room, fixing the creases on his white button up. He paused. Slowly, the young man lifted his head to stare vacantly at the photographs embedded onto the walls in a uniformed line, held down by tiny pieces of duct tape. Each of them had the dates and signatures marked.

And every single one of them bore Mingyu’s frame. Junhui had never really had the courage to ask about him. Mingyu was already a rising star when Junhui debuted in the industry. Everyone knew of his name. He was a prepossessing young gentleman, suave and poised, and all the men and women flocked to his feet, worshipping his beauty and his, well, wealth.

Transfixed and bewitched by the man’s alluring countenance, he found himself eyeballing the pictures in a daze for a little too long, until a voice eventually intruded his thoughts.

“Hey,”

Junhui blinked.

Wonwoo stood in front of him without an ounce of emotion present on his visage. The latter managed some sort of a smile, which twisted his expression into something incomprehensible and Junhui felt a dreadful ache in his chest. He had never really noticed the sorrow which had been so deeply ingrained in Wonwoo’s limpid eyes, and it was strangely distressing.

“A work of art, isn’t he?” Wonwoo whispered.

“He sure is,” Junhui hesitantly replied, “I’ve never heard of his story before,”

“Another day, perhaps,” he turned away, swerving from the subject in hand to wind the camera strap around his neck, “C’mon. We have to be done by five,”

Ten minutes later found Junhui sprawling on the freshly trimmed grass in the garden outside, pure white blooming carnations and camellias adorning his face. Wonwoo mounted a ladder, positioning himself at a very, _very_ specific angle in hopes of capturing Junhui’s beauty faultlessly.

“You look terrible today,”

“Oh my _god_ , shut up,”

“Hey, I’m serious! Your eyebrows look like they have seen better days,”

Junhui’s eyes instantly crinkled up in laughter, unable to hold himself back from uttering a string of curses. “I hate you,”

Wonwoo smiled through the viewfinder.

He looked beautiful like this.


	2. part two

_Soft gentle thrumming sounds pounded against Wonwoo’s ear and a warm smile spilled across his lips. He detached himself from the man’s bare chest, absolutely giddy with happiness. Mingyu emitted an indistinct chuckle, huddling in with his slumberous young lover who was coiled on his lap, swathed in only a thin cotton blanket._

_“I could stay like this forever,” Wonwoo tucked his hands around a mug of steaming coffee, permitting Mingyu to spoon him and flutter sloppy kisses along his shoulder blades. The crisp night breeze enveloped their bodies lounging on the veranda, and Mingyu nosed onto the curve of his neck with a sigh._

_“If only we could,” he whispered._

 

The doorbells clinked gently amidst their arguments about whether their instant noodles were undercooked and a man sauntered past the threshold, dress shoes clicking against the floorboards. Wonwoo approached the reception counter with a raised brow, resting his hands on the edges of the desk.

“Well it’s been a while, Choi Seungcheol,”

Seungcheol was a mystifying man, in his thirties with the prettiest eyes one could have ever seen, deer lashes fluttering against his cheeks and a smile so bright, coruscating like the stars, incandescent and hypnotising. He was always casually handsome, dressed in a basic white tee with a blazer and matching trousers, and silver studs hemming his ears.

It was infuriating to be surrounded by such attractive people.

“Indeed,” he chirped cheerfully, “I’m here to ask for a favour,”

“Doesn’t sound like good news to me,”

“Please,” he laughed, “I just need a photographer for a social event tomorrow. Some issues occurred and we urgently require a substitute. You can bring a plus one. An assistant, or whatever,”

Wonwoo sighed, contemplating this for a brief moment.

“Alright. Any attendees that I should take note of?” he penned down the details on his schedule with Junhui peering over his shoulder curiously.

“None. Just do your usual thing,” a smile curved up the corners of his lips as he tilted his head to glance over Wonwoo’s shoulder, “Fancy meeting you here, Junhui,”

The young man threaded his lithe fingers through his lilac hair absentmindedly, gazing steadily upon him with a faint smile lingering on his lips. An overwhelming silence hung between them. Wonwoo became swiftly aware of this and cleared his throat, tearing out a page from his diary and slapping it onto the countertop.

“Here’s my number, if you need anything,”

“Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he tucked the notepaper into his breast pocket and left as abruptly as he had arrived.

Junhui pushed his shoulder against the window, watching the man back up from the driveway in his sleek, brand new car before receding from view on the road. Wonwoo bolted the door and returned his desk, fumbling with the ramen seasoning packets.

“I’ve never heard of his story before either,”

Junhui settled down in the seat across him, spooning some kimchi stew with a chuckle. It was a breathless, empty sound, brimming with a certain kind of chilling bitterness that Wonwoo has never heard of in his voice.

“He’s ancient history. Let’s talk about him next time,”

Wonwoo silently agreed on dropping the subject because honestly, nothing good could come out of involving yourself with Choi Seungcheol. He was a man of terrible habits. The entire industry probably knew it. The brunet stabbed his noodles with a pair of chopsticks.

“I told you it’s undercooked,”

“Dude, I’m going to _fight_ you,”

 

Enchanting women with willowy figures and bright lively smiles breezed down the red carpet in flowing, million dollar dresses. Drop dead gorgeous men decked out in chic extravagant tuxedos with alluring smiles strode alongside with one another, basking in each other’s company and boisterous laughter.

Cameras began flashing at an astonishing pace. The flares were blinding, blinking rapidly in their eyes and the back of their eyeballs hurt. But the doors soon creaked shut, sealing away the public from intruding their night of letting loose. Wonwoo cradled his camera in his clammy hands, feeling strangely nervous.

It has been too long since he had been last present in a scene like this. There were a few familiar faces but they wouldn’t recognise him – not when he was just a scrawny, nameless photographer blending somewhere behind the scenes. Junhui mingled with the guests effortlessly, making pleasant chatter with them and eventually vanishing in the crowd.

Time to work, he grumped, fixating his attention on a circle of ladies clinking glasses of red wine.

Every single beautiful face in Seoul was currently inhibiting the room and while it was a little too crowded for his liking, being able to work with them as his canvas was a breathtaking experience. A numbing sensation clenched his insides. The brunet tightened his grip on his camera and flipped through the photographs he had taken.

Regret and dread instantaneously washed over him. Maybe he shouldn’t have come. It was rekindling some…unpleasant memories.

“Wonwoo! Wonwoo, is that you?”

He spun around on his heels. A boy with round cheeks, cheerful crinkly eyes and a flaming head of bouncy rufescent locks sprinted towards him, arms parted for a hug. Wonwoo gaped at the other in disbelief.

“Soonyoung, I can’t believe it’s you!” he laughed as the youngster knocked into him, almost toppling them over, and tugged him in for an embrace, “It’s been so long. Look at you. You’re all grown up now! What happened?”

“Well, I managed to snatch up a gig in America so I’ve been there for like, two years? I just got back last week,” he chimed excitedly.

“I’m glad you’re doing well,” Wonwoo mussed his hair fondly, sporting a broad grin like a proud parent, “You look like a hot cheeto,”

“Shut up,” he chortled, fingers curling around Wonwoo’s wrist, “You look like you’ve lost a ton of weight. Maybe you should join my friends and I for supper tonight. Come, I shall introduce you to them!”

Soonyoung jostled and elbowed their way through the crowd, probing around under the flashing coloured lights and deafening music to locate his buddies. For a split moment, Wonwoo thought he might have been dreaming. He struggled to keep his feet rooted to the ground, unshed tears muddling his visions.

The world seemed so nebulous at that moment.

He could feel all the breath instantaneously escaping his chest, and something ugly inside of him shrivelling and wilting.

“Wonwoo, if I may introduce: Joshua–” he gestured towards the delicate, attenuated lad with smoky eyeliner, radiant feline eyes and tousled chestnut hair, who was smiling over a flute of champagne, “He’s my senior from the company. And meet our executive,” he waved his arm carelessly at the said gentleman.

For a brief fleeting moment, Wonwoo found himself blocking out everything. All the raucous voices reverberating through the hall were instantly tuned out like the radio, the people surrounding him became blear and obscure in his line of sight and suddenly, he could taste that familiar cologne in the air once again.

 

_The two young men stumbled over their feet clumsily, tearing at each other’s garments with their lips interlocked in a desperate, searing kiss. They tumbled into a pile of limbs on the couch, flustered and dazed from all the wine they had. Mingyu pried open the buttons of his dress shirt, staring down at his lover with adoration permeating his smouldering dark orbs._

_“You’re so beautiful,” he dove in for another kiss, shrugging out of his clothes and gathering the other into his arms._

_The waves crashed and rumbled in a distance peacefully._

 

The man shifted in place, sweeping his eyes across the room to direct his attention to Wonwoo, who unknowingly flinched under his gaze. He was still as stunning as ever, with his crepuscular dark bangs swept away from his handsome face, and a navy suit hugging his towering lean frame; his slim trousers cutting off at his ankles.

The raven haired man smiled, albeit hesitant to do so. Wonwoo refused to tear his eyes away from him, unable to stop the bile and tears from welling up in his throat. He was just so, _so_ beautiful. He hadn’t changed abit, though he had acquired a lovely tan over the summer, and he seemed to be doing more than just _fine_.

And the thought just crushed his heart into smithereens.

“Mingyu,”


	3. part three

Soonyoung switched his gaze back and forth in surprise, oblivious to the air of uninterpretable, awkward discomfort between them.

“You two know each other?”

Mingyu cracked an indiscernible smile.

“Just an old friend of mine,”

Wonwoo was finding it very, _very_ difficult to maintain a straight face. All the pain bubbling inside of his chest was swiftly gathered, stored and tucked away into a deep dark corner of his heart. He _loathed_ this feeling. It has been such a long time and Mingyu was still trying to tear him apart from inside and fade with the broken shards of his heart.

“Well, that’s great! Maybe you guys can catch up while we get some drinks,” Soonyoung yelled over the music, “Joshua, c’mon!”

The young man seemed reluctant; he had registered something strange going on and was unwilling to depart from the scene, but relented anyway.

“I’ll see you in abit, darling,” he pressed a peck on Mingyu’s cheek, shooting them a wary glance before melting into the crowd with Soonyoung.

Wonwoo expelled a breathy chuckle in disbelief. A glint of silver caught his eye, and he peered down at the engagement band winding around Mingyu’s third finger. _Oh_ , so that was how it is. This was how he was going to gain closure after the love of his life left him for another man, who was undeniably more attractive than he was.

“ _Darling_?” he reiterated mockingly in contempt.

The venom dripping in his voice made Mingyu wince internally. But Wonwoo couldn’t help it, drawing in a deep breath as a wave of dizziness circled his head. This situation was unnervingly nauseating. He did have a bad feeling today but…he wasn’t expecting this. The brunet whirled around to escape.

Mingyu snatched hold of his wrist despairingly. “Wait–”

“Let go,”

“No, hold on. Just listen to me for a minute,”

“Let go of me, Mingyu!” he shouted, twisting in his grip.

“Wonwoo, please! Please listen,” Mingyu uttered in exasperation.

 _God_ , it’s been so long since he had heard Mingyu’s tender, raspy voice.

He craned his neck to shoot the other a glare. “Fuck off,” he hissed, “I waited. For _two_ years. And now you’re here, looking mighty fine with another man and a fucking ring, I see. That explains enough. I don’t want to listen to your petty excuses. Leave me alone,”

Wonwoo wrenched away from him and shoved his way through the crowd, unsuccessfully fighting back the tears cascading down his cheeks. He didn’t look back. Mingyu watched helplessly, knuckles whitening by his sides as he observed in interest: a young man with lavender hair and twinkling eyes making haste after Wonwoo.

Things have really changed, he noted with a faint ache in his chest.

“Wonwoo!” Junhui called out breathlessly, his steps stuttering to a stop at the entrance.

Wonwoo planted his feet to the ground, basking in the caliginous night silently. There were no stars dotting the unilluminated skies, just a full irradiant moon dangling amongst the clouds. He felt strangely lonely, just like the moon, even when Junhui encircled his arms around his frame and drew him into an embrace.

Nothing was said between them, and Wonwoo cried his heart out all night.

 

“You’re early today. That’s rare,” Wonwoo commented. He was draped over the couch languorously; staring intensely at the blank ceiling with his backpack flopped in the middle of the carpeted floor. The place was still in perfect order.

“And you look grossly underprepared for our session today,” Junhui frowned, “That’s unusual,”

“Hey you usually don’t come in until like, ten thirty,”

The lilac haired male carefully set a paper bag filled with groceries on the coffee table and prodded the other with a socked foot. Wonwoo responded with a half hearted grunt, waving him off with a flick of his hand and rolling onto his sides in a mess of limbs.  Junhui exhaled deeply, seating himself on the armrest.

“Look, I know you didn’t feel so great last night. I bought you some ice cream to soothe your dark, bitter soul so let’s try to get this done before closing time and I’ll binge watch The Office with you,”

The brunet craned his neck to blink at the other, remaining somewhat silent for some time. “That’s…kind of you. Thank you, Junhui,”

He shrugged, lumbering across the room with a yawn. “What are friends for, right? I’ll get changing,”

Wonwoo pushed himself off the couch, wincing at the sore feeling gnawing along his shoulders. He kneaded the flesh along his neck with his fingertips and gave the switches a tap, bringing life to the lighting kits. Bright glaring rings of light flashed over the backdrop. He gazed upon the sight with a heavy sensation weighing down his chest.

The door dubiously creaked open, jolting the bells and welcoming a gust of wind into the room. He glanced over his shoulder.

“Welcome–” he widened his eyes.

His heart paused for a split second.

Mingyu was standing at the egress, cladded in casual jeans and a thin woollen v neck sweater, with a sorrowful look in his eyes. He was so beautifully surreal, and in that moment, Wonwoo felt like he was twenty again, with mellow affection bursting in his chest for the man. _Fuck_ _,_ he was still deeply in love with Mingyu and he hated himself for it.

 

“That’s a wrap!”

The models burst into sighs of relief, unsheathing their arms from the uncomfortable stretches of fabric clinging to their limbs. Wonwoo frolicked across the room, instantly reviewing the photographs developing and emerging on the screen. Pride swelled in his chest as the printer began ejecting hundreds of glossy photographs.

Pictures began plastering the walls, fastened down by messy strips of paper tape. He examined the photographs in utter satisfaction. It was unexpectedly, as Mingyu would say, _esthétique_. Wonwoo glimpsed over his shoulder, giving his boyfriend a complacent smile. He brought the cup of latte closer to his lips.

“Looks great, doesn’t it?”

“I hope they all get published,” Mingyu discreetly sneaked his arm around the younger’s waist, “People need to recognise your work,”

Wonwoo hid his sheepishness behind the paper cup, nudging him with his elbow. “Stop it, everyone’s here,”

But the other simply ignored him, all giddy smiles and laughter, and unable to hold himself back; he swooped in to press a kiss on his cheek. The brunet cleared his throat, suppressing the butterflies bursting in his chest, and bumped his fist against the other’s chest with a flush burning his cheeks.

“Idiot,” he muttered.

Mingyu leaned in to whisper hushed words against the back of his ear, departing with a knowing smile to rejoin his fellow colleagues. The brunet shadowed the trail of the sun, inclining against the windowsill to revel in the shaft of morning light. Soft peals of laughter tinkled in the air, and warmth engulfed his heart.

_‘I’ll see you at nightfall,’_

 

At the end of the week at a quiet, breathtaking beach travelling an hour down the road from civilisation, they would meet at a beach house, where there would be just the two of them. Away from the watchful eyes of people, away from the latches of the world, and they could be themselves, with each other.

Mingyu was always subjected to the scrutiny of the public. He was a rising star, after all. The couple could only imagine the disapproval people would have of their relationship. They just wanted to be in their little own world, where they could love one another without fretting about being discovered.

But one night, Mingyu vanished into thin air.

Nobody knew where he went. Rumours flew around that his company had moved operations elsewhere and Mingyu had followed suit, but the model had not appeared on any magazine for years. Something inside of Wonwoo shattered and fell apart for a long, long time. He couldn’t pull himself together.

He thought that he would never be able to.

And he never did.


	4. part four

“How the fuck did you get here?” he snarled in pure resentment, flouncing towards him.

Mingyu took a step back, raising his hands in defence. “Look, I just wanted to talk–”

“ _Who_ told you?”

The young man sighed, looking genuinely crestfallen and Wonwoo’s heart twisted in agony. He still couldn’t process the fact that Mingyu had left him and now he was here again, like he had never left in the first place. He didn’t want to deal with this pain… He was trying to bury it and now it was strangling his insides.

Wonwoo threw his hands up in defeat. “You know what, forget about it. Please just leave. I really don’t want you here right now,”

“Wonwoo–”

“Wonwoo?”

The brunet craned his neck to glance over his shoulder. Junhui exited the changing room and crossed the room in large strides, sweeping in between the two men with furrowed brows. The two youthful models exchanged hard stares, silently acknowledging the familiarity they found in each other. But that could wait for another time.

“He asked you to leave,”

Mingyu paused, seeming to consider the option for a moment. But he couldn’t just turn around and go. Yeah sure, he did that once but it was the most dreadful decision he had ever made and he regretted every bit of the two years he had spent away from the other. He was broken but Wonwoo was…devastatingly wrecked. It was his entire fucking fault and he knew it.

“Please give me ten minutes. Ten minutes and I’ll get out of your hair, I promise,” he pleaded.

Wonwoo exhaled deeply, rubbing his face with his palms. He contemplated this silently, refusing eye contact with the other. With all the heartbreak, uncontrollable tears and pain, he was standing in front of the man he loved again, and he just had so many questions. But with everything going on, he just wanted to know if Mingyu was alright. Mingyu could put up one hell of a façade, and Wonwoo wanted to know: underneath that layer of shallow indifference, was he suffering too? Was he buried in this wretched misery, praying that he would be reunited with his lover someday? Was he still…in love with Wonwoo?

“Junhui,” Wonwoo muttered softly.

The lilac haired male tore himself away from the scene reluctantly with a nod, retreating into one of the rooms to give them privacy. Wonwoo threw himself on the couch and lowered his head, tucking his hands under his knees for warmth. He looked so small and vulnerable, like a child, and it was heartbreaking to see. Is this what Mingyu had done to him?

“Speak,”

Mingyu scoured through his pockets to fish out a scarlet velvet box, and pried it open to unveil a beautiful, thin black matte ring, with a black diamond lining the obsidian material. Wonwoo widened his eyes. He instinctively reached towards the chain around his neck, yanking it free from under the confines of his shirt. An identical ring rested innocently upon his chest. Mingyu seemed relieved to see it, to see that a piece of him had still remained in Wonwoo’s heart. A smile curled the edges of his mouth. Wonwoo found himself distracted by the silver ring glinting on the other’s finger. Spiteful envy crept into his heart.

“We were going to have a spring wedding,” Mingyu muttered fondly, running his thumb along the ring, sable and cool underneath his touch.

He released a shaky breath of air, collecting his composure with his eyes squeezed shut.

“Mingyu, _why_?” his voice warbled, thin and desperate, “You never returned. It’s like you disappeared from the face of the earth. What happened?”

 

“See you soon, my dear puppy,”

Wonwoo laughed.

“You’re gross,”

The blonde male deftly scrabbled down from the beach house, scrambling past rocks and roots before landing on his bare feet and sprinting down the stretch of sand hurriedly. He stashed his clothes into a paper bag, casting it into the backseat of his car with a heavy sigh. He had to get home, fast.

A frown bobbed up on his features.

A shady white Mazda with heavily tinted windows had been parked next to his vehicle. The colour began draining from his face as a man with well defined features and a broad frame stepped out of the car, trendy polarised sunglasses perched upon his nose. Mingyu pushed his sleeves up to his elbows and slammed the door shut.

“Good morning, young master. Have you eaten?”

“How the hell did you find me, Seokmin?” he snapped.

Seokmin removed his sunglasses, shooting him an apologetic smile. “I’m under orders to take you home,”

“ _Home_?”

“Yeah. You have a flight booked for tonight,”

Mingyu fixated his gaze on the other, hard and stony. He curled his fists. “You knew. And you fucking told him,”

Seokmin remained infuriatingly silent. He cracked open the car door and dipped his head in a bow, feigning complete ignorance to Mingyu’s statement. “I’ll have someone get your car, sir. Your things have already been packed,”

The blonde swept forward, fist ramming against his cheekbone in a flash. Seokmin stumbled back with his hand instinctively shooting up to ease the twinge of pain stinging his cheek. He gritted his teeth and shoved his hands against Mingyu’s chest, repressing the urge to reciprocate the punch.

“You had to be a prick,” he spat, “You could have shut up and get on with your life, but you had to go ahead and ruin my fucking life instead,”

“He would have found out eventually,” Seokmin snapped, “My job is on the line here, Mingyu. I have a _family_. Sorry for being so fucking selfish but you wouldn’t understand, would you?”

The blonde scoffed.

“What, is this about Seungkwan again?” he scoffed derisively.

Seokmin’s countenance instantly turned grim. With rage permeating inside of him, he finally swung his fist and requited the punch, connecting with the model’s faultless face. That was going to leave a mark on his pretty face but neither of them cared at this point. Mingyu seized him by the collar, fabric scrunching in his grip with his eyes set aflame with fury.

“Don’t you say another fucking word,” Seokmin warned dangerously.

“Right back at ya,” he hissed, “Every single time I get called back, it’s because of you, taking the opportunity to ruin my life whenever you can. Nobody would know anything if you just fucked off,”

The blonde unceremoniously shoved him back with his hands, directing another glare in his direction before clambering into the car. Seokmin staggered backwards. He kicked off the sand dusting his dress shoes, straightening out his blazer with an unhappy grunt. The tension was frustratingly sharp, cutting through the air like a knife.

 

A dim light washed over his visions, the world steadily manifesting in fuzzy images before his sight. His mind was still vacant, shrouded in mild confusion. Carding his thin phalanges through his unkempt flaxen locks, he pushed open the window and took in the coruscating city lights dotting the earth below, twinkling like stars.

A voice crackled over the aircraft’s intercom.

“Welcome to Los Angeles, the city of angels,”

Mingyu exhaled deeply.

Home.

 

You have one voicemail (1).

“ _Hey Mingyu. Haven’t heard from you in a couple of days. Are you out of town? I miss you alot. Take care of yourself, okay?_ ”

“ _I love you_ ,”


	5. part five

Exorbitant life sized paintings, golden aureate furniture and exquisite antiques furnished the beautiful mansion. Gleaming glass chandeliers lined the ceiling sky high above their heads, blanketing them in a thin sheen of pale orange, and tall, intricate ceramic vases of peach roses adorned the corners of the significantly large home.

The young male flounced into the drawing room, ripping open the top buttons of his dress shirt and shrugging out of his blazer, holding it out towards the butler manning the entrance. He welcomed himself inside, eyes narrowed at the familiar figures gracing the couch. Bottles of wines and half empty glasses cluttered the coffee table.

He could taste a hint of Cuban cigar in the air. Mingyu pocketed his hands, gliding forward before them with an insincere smile curving the corners of his lips.

“I’m home,”

“As per orders,” his father, a well built middle aged man with wrinkles sinking into his stern features and grey hair slicked back from his forehead, muttered over his cigar, “I’m surprised,”

“It’s been awhile,” Joshua’s gentle voice floated through the room, rolling like honey and smooth, melted chocolate, “How was your trip?”

His fiancé was a mild mannered, immaculate gentleman with nothing but kindness in his heart. They were born nine months apart with silver spoons in their mouths and had been engaged since he was twenty one. Neither of them particularly enjoyed the arrangement. But Joshua had never been one to argue.

“It was fine,”

“Care to have some?” his father gestured towards the bottle of wine sitting amongst the mess on the coffee table, “Perrier Jouet, _Belle Époque,”_

“Mm, fancy,”

“Chardonnay. It’s very fine; you should have a taste,”

“Indeed I shall,” he grabbed the bottle by the neck and examined the fine print on the label, “So why did you call me back, father?”

A momentary pause settled in between them.

“Joshua, if you could please excuse us for a minute,” his father dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

“Of course,” the young man hurriedly pushed himself out of his seat and exited the room to join his butler outside.

Thick, suffocating silence engulfed the room. His father dipped his hand into the pocket of his blazer and unveiled a wad of photographs, tossing them onto the table. They spilled across the surface, displaying discreet captures of Mingyu in his most vulnerable moments with his secret lover in Seoul.

Affection and pure unadulterated love permeated their eyes as they stared at one another, limbs entwined and souls interwound as one. Mingyu had managed to escape reality for two years. He was hoping to drag time for a little while longer, maybe prolong it with some petty excuse. He just…didn’t want to leave the love of his life.

“Explain,”

The blonde exhaled heavily, setting the champagne down on the table.

“He’s my lover,”

His father gave him a hard stare, eyes turning stony and rancorous. “Say that again,”

He scoffed. “Oh don’t give me that look, father. Everyone in this house knows that you had multiple affairs even when mother was still alive,”

Seokmin fidgeted in discomfort at the air of intensity ballooning in the room. He suddenly found the thick vermeil carpet beneath his feet rather interesting. Man, he has never noticed those strange blue dragons embroidered into the fabric. How _fascinating_ , he noted with sweaty palms and a lump at the back of his throat.

“You dare to speak to me like that,” his father barked, “Alright then,”

He slammed the glass down on the marble surface of the coffee table, drawing out some papers and chucking the stack in front of him. A passport sized photograph of his lover was clipped to the front, with a full report of his personal details, family history and data tacked to the pages. Mingyu instantly paled.

“I know _exactly_ who you are seeing. Jeon Wonwoo, 22. Professional photographer, orphan, majored in aesthetics with a minor in photography. Well, he is pretty cute. You know what I can do to him,”

“Leave him alone,”

His father leaned back on the couch with a smug, triumphant smile. “No,”

“Don’t touch him!” he struck the table with a kick, toppling it over and scattering the sheets all across the room, fists whitening in rage, “Don’t you fucking _dare_. I will **kill** you,”

“Again with the death threats,” the man scoffed, regarding the mess with a click of his tongue, “Boring. Well, here’s the deal. I can take Jeon Wonwoo away from you. Maybe make a couple of arrangements to place him in a brothel somewhere on the globe. He might die in a couple of months but this world doesn’t have much use for a kid like him anyway,”

“You–” he advanced towards the man with gritted teeth and fury burning in his eyes, and Seokmin immediately threw his arms around the infuriated, thrashing blonde to hold him back, “Let go, you fucker!”

“Here’s a preposition,” he suggested with a harrowing smile, interrupting any further protests from his son, “I’m in dire need of a CEO to look after IMM’s modelling branch. I’ll be making some expansions to the corporate so I won’t have time to deal with the subsidiaries. I would like you to take care of it,”

He was starting to get real dizzy.

“Joshua will be taking over Stella very soon and we have reached an agreement on merging companies. It would really help if you guys could have a nice little wedding before you two get busy with work,”

“You’re a piece of trash,” Mingyu spat bitterly.

The man snorted in derision. “It’s not that hard. You just gotta leave the kid alone. I promise I won’t lay a hand on him,”

The world was spinning now.

Nausea erupted in his gut at the thought of Wonwoo just vanishing from his side forever. He was his everything: the love of his life, the most beautiful man in the world and the only person who has ever felt like home. Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes, and his chest tightened at the thought of Wonwoo’s heart wrenchingly beautiful smile.

‘ _This must be what dying feels like_ ,’ he emitted a dry, empty fit of laughter, ‘ _Though if I could just die tonight, everything would be so much better_ ,’

 

You have five missed calls. (5)

 

An overwhelming shade of pink fluttered along the edges of his sight, all petals and young, exuberant blooming roses. He was an absolutely charming sight, tucked into a tuxedo that was constricting his movements and causing him to break out into a heavy sweat, with his hair swept aside and tinted jet black for the occasion.

 

You have one voicemail. (1)

 

His husband to be was as pretty as a picture, as always. His lean frame had been fitted into a snowy white tuxedo, depicting the guileless purity in his heart, and dress shoes to match. A bedazzling smile lit up his features as he prowled down the aisle, a simple array of baby’s breaths and roses gathered in between his hands.

They gazed into each other’s eyes without an ounce of affection, just mere understanding and respect between them, and tuned out any noises infiltrating their so called _special_ moment.

“I’m sorry,” Joshua whispered.

“You don’t have to be,” Mingyu responded with a subtle smile.

The brunet lowered his head, releasing a tiny sigh of relief. “So we are good?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah definitely,”

“I was thinking: what do you think about whale watching on the honeymoon? We get to chill with the dolphins and pat the hell outta them,”

He grinned.

“ _Awesome_ ,”

 

“Joshua Hong, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

 

_“Mingyu. Mingyu, please pick up,”_

 

“I do,”

 

_“Please,”_

 

“And Kim Mingyu, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

 

_An inaudible, convulsive gasp crackled over the phone, followed by a series of broken sobs._

 

A cool, numbing sensation burned the back of his throat.

 

 _“I think I might really_ die _if you don’t,”_

 

“I do.”


	6. part six

Mingyu often toiled away in his company for days without end. To keep his mind off things, he locked himself in the office and worked his models to death, organising auditions, collaborations, catwalks, you name it. He relabelled the company, branding it as his own, and kept Joshua by his side at all times.

They tried not to display the lack of affection between them, agreeing to exhibit a simple show as faithful companions. Joshua often unsuccessfully ignored the unconscious murmurs of another man’s name flickering past Mingyu’s lips in his exhaustive slumbers. Sometimes, he wished that the ache in his chest was just a figment of his imagination.

 

“Do you want to go back to Seoul with me?” Mingyu casually inquired one evening, unlatching his gold wristwatch and setting it on the bedside table.

Joshua peered up from his favourite book, tucked in a cosy pile of blankets at one side of the cotton mattress. A pair of round, trendy glasses framed his slender, youthful face. “What’s the occasion?”

“Seungcheol invited me to an event at Esteem. I was hoping that I might get to meet some big shots, see if I can set the kids up for this year’s Seoul Fashion week,”

He slipped under the covers with a mug of coffee to join his husband, engrossed with his mobile. Joshua scooted closer towards him with his nose buried in his book, feigning disinterest in the idea.

“Sure, why not,” he muttered, “I haven’t been to Seoul since I was like sixteen,”

“Mm, great. We’ll leave on Saturday,”

Joshua hesitated, without lifting his gaze from the book. “Why Seoul?”

“What do you mean?” he tipped the mug to his lips, taking small sips of the steaming liquid.

“Well, you’ve gotten invitations from France, London, even Tokyo. But you’ve rejected them all. So, why Seoul?”

An empty, hollow sensation sank into his chest. He shifted his attention to the window, taking in the night lights and skyscrapers splitting through the tenebrous skies and cascading clouds. The sound of the gurgling waves enveloping the shore, the salty breeze stinging his taste buds and the tinkling laughter of his long lost love resonated in a distance.

He wanted to return home, where he belonged.

It has been too long. Night after night, he fell asleep to the thought of his beloved, tears wetting his unoffending cheeks and an agonising ache in his chest. How was he? Has he been sleeping and eating well? Was he still awaiting Mingyu’s return? He missed Wonwoo, so much, that it was tearing him apart inside.

He wanted to feel the sea again, let the wind lull him to sleep like a baby. It has been two years. No one could chain him down anymore. He set the empty mug aside and sprawled on the mattress, thick blankets pillowing his figure. Joshua shut his book and shot him an inquisitive look.

Mingyu wore a playful smile, eyes staring off into the distance. “I owe Seungcheol a favour,” he took on a strangely convincing tone, “Besides, Soonyoung’s dying to get back to Seoul; he’s been complaining since we got here,”

This elicited a fit of laughter from the brunet. He set his book aside and slid further under the covers until he was buried up to his nose. “Get some sleep. We need to be up at seven for the catwalk tomorrow,”

“You’ll be coming along?”

“Of course,” Joshua leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek and threw himself onto his sides with a yawn, “Goodnight,”

Mingyu fixed his gaze on the ceiling.

“Night,”

 

This was starting to become habitual.

 

They were sitting side by side on the couch. Without his realisation, tears were cascading down his pale cheeks in thin streams, with an empty, numbing sensation caving into his chest. Two years later, and the love of his life just dropped a _fucking_ bomb on him. A faint tint of cologne sat in the air and it was so familiar, _so_ painful. His heart was racing.

He swallowed back the bile rising in his throat.

“You could have told me,” Wonwoo curled his fingers in, tightening them into fists on his lap, “You never returned my calls and I just kept…waiting,”

“I thought it’d make it less painful,” he let out a nervous fit of laughter, “Telling you that I’m married? You’d hate me for the rest of our lives. I really love you. I think about you every day and it _hurts_ so fucking bad–”

The brunet threw his arms around Mingyu’s neck, burrowing onto his shoulder to muffle his sniffles and sobs. Mingyu released a deep breath which he didn’t know he was holding, and gathered his lover into a tender embrace. They didn’t need any words. Their hearts were in smithereens, and they just wanted to feel each other’s warmth and love.

Junhui propped his arms against the windowsill, bathing in the morning sun with a cheap cancer stick shoved between his lips. This felt nice, he thought. A gust of zephyr caressed his tired chiselled features, soothing all the tense muscles in his body. Withdrawing the cigarette with his fingers, he exhaled heavily, smoke clouding his visions.

A heavy sensation sunk into his gut. He took another long drag from the cig, tipping his head back and shutting his eyes, to soak in the soothing breeze. He thought about the fond smiles engrained on Wonwoo’s features as he snapped captivating images of the model. All the laughter and good times they had shared, dissolving into the swirls of the wind.

“Ah,” he sighed aloud with an empty chuckle, “I’m _fucked_ , aren’t I?”

 

The raven haired male stepped through the glass doors, a gust of cool air enveloping his figure as he glanced around in awe. It was one of those luxurious, posh hotels for the elite, with grand visuals and top of the class service. A couple strutted past him, decked out in _way_ too many diamonds and fur, and he raised an eyebrow.

Wonwoo crossed the lobby with the security eyeing him suspiciously; he assumed it was the fact that he didn’t dress or look anything like an aristocrat, because this place was crowded with people who act like bitches. He stepped into the elevator, fiddling with the card between his fingers anxiously.

No one would know he was here, right?

He found a room at the end of the tenth floor corridor, swiped his card and stepped through the threshold after glancing around cautiously. Wonwoo dropped his belongings and sauntered in, palms growing clammy at the sight of the tall, elegant young man standing at the window overlooking the city with a glass of red wine cradled in one hand.

He stepped towards Mingyu, arms confined around his waist and nose buried onto his shoulder.

“I missed you,” he mumbled.

Mingyu set his glass down and spun around, regarding his lover with a rare twinkle in his eyes. With their gazes locked on each other and a patent sexual tension in the air, they closed the gaps between them to exchange a string of tentative kisses, which became more frantic, fervent and overwhelmingly passionate by the minute.

They stumbled back until Wonwoo could feel the back of his knees hitting the edge of the mattress, tearing at the scarlet silk shirt getting in his way. It’s been _years_. He could taste wine and not the sea, make love in thousand thread count sheets and not under the moon, and Mingyu was no longer the childish young blonde he knew of.

But it’s okay.

Between the heavy pants and gasps under the covers, Wonwoo found home once again. He could feel the tingles all over his body, when Mingyu gathered him into his arms and peppered every inch of his face with pecks. A bright smile graced his features as he playfully prodded the other to demand more affection, and Mingyu gave him everything he wanted.

“Will you spend the night?” Mingyu asked hopefully, taking another sip of his red wine.

Wonwoo hemmed.

“I’ll spend my entire life with you,”

This brought about giddy smiles and more wine, and Mingyu was hovering above him in a flash with more promises to offer.

“I love you.”


	7. part seven

A pale shade of citrus tinted his plump lips, undertones of soft blues smudging his lids. Frantic hands were darting back and forth, curling his hazel locks and straightening out the tailored clothes draped over him. A chiffon cardigan slung from his broad shoulders, sleeves cutting off at his fingertips, and he found comfort in the silky fabric hugging his frame.

“Joshua, you’re up in five.”

“Ready,” he announced, as the stylists backed away from him.

“You look good.”

Joshua lifted his head and his heart took a _gigantic_ leap. Despite his husband’s imposing figure, Mingyu looked soft, decked out in oversized garments and warm colours. He was gorgeous, and always had been. For the first time in two years, he will be joining the catwalk along with his fellow models and he was going to do it in the biggest event of the year.

Wonwoo would be proud.

“So do you,” A smile curled his lips. Joshua acknowledged his reflection with a sigh, patting out any uneven crinkles in his clothing. “You didn’t come home last night,” he remarked nonchalantly.

“I’m sorry,” Mingyu replied in a gentle tone, hands resting on his husband’s sides, “You must have been worried. I was out late with some old friends.”

“Joshua!” a manager hissed, waving his clipboard around.

That’s his cue. The young man spun around to press a kiss on Mingyu’s lips, feigning a smile through all the ache in his chest. “It’s okay. I’ll see you at dinner.”

Mingyu swallowed thickly.

Memories of his young brunet lover gasping and entangling with the sheets flooded into his head once more. The sight was enamouring, mesmerising, and he desired for more. It was hard to keep himself under control; he needed to have his hands on Wonwoo. _Dinner?_ He watched Joshua sweep down the catwalk, fists curled, and whispered to himself, _I can’t_.

 

Wonwoo hurriedly secured the lens onto his camera, gazing through the viewfinder. Loud whispers of surprise circled through the audience. The last model was entering the scene. He was tall and dignified, with an elegant walk and bewitching features. Three years ago, he was the most popular supermodel dominating the industry.

And now here he was again, with _that_ perfect unrivalled walk which no other model had.

Wonwoo was eager, speedily snapping photographs. They were coming out beautifully, or maybe his subject was just…quintessential. For a split second, he swore that Mingyu’s eyes had flickered towards him, and his heart swelled in his chest. But this was a professional setting and he could not say a word but simply smile and hide behind his camera.

Mingyu was _his_.

 

From afar, amongst the lavish and chatter, he could spot a lilac haired male, downing glasses of champagne and engaging with familiar faces from the covers of magazines. Wonwoo has finally been relieved of his camera duties and was free to mingle and circulate, maybe shake a few hands before he retired for the night.

He breezed through the crowd, joining the model with a bright smile. “Junhui, you’re here. I thought your walk was tomorrow.”

The model broke away from his circle of friends to clink his glasses with Wonwoo. “Yeah, I was just dropping in, meeting some friends. How was work?”

“It’s fine. Just alot more fun when you are around.”

Junhui seemed very pleased with his response, a gleeful smile brightening up his features. He took a sip from the flute, eyes darting past Wonwoo’s shoulders. The brunet instantaneously registered the sharp flutter of emotions crossing his eyes, and he tensed. Junhui stepped in to swiftly intertwine their hands, pressing a whisper behind his ear.

“KM’s CEO and his husband incoming, three o’clock,”

“ _Relax_.”

Naturally, he did everything but _relax_. Why would Mingyu want to stop and greet him here, amongst all the most famous faces in the industry? There were eyes watching them. Joshua would notice something odd. Wonwoo merely existed behind the scenes, as a not so famous photographer. It was bound to seem questionable.

Junhui handed him a glass and he knocked it back entirely, taking a minute to collect himself as the clouds of dismay in his mind cleared. Mingyu and Joshua approached them with dainty, unruffled steps and linked arms, maintaining their refined postures. Wonwoo could feel his breath hitching in his throat.

“Wonwoo, so glad to see you again,” Mingyu extended his arm for a handshake.

“It has been awhile,” he accepted his outstretched hand, giving it a firm shake.

Joshua pondered for a moment, on the familiarity surrounding this name. He has briefly met this man once before and instantly had a bad feeling about him, but Wonwoo seemed pleasant enough, with a striking young date at his arm. He tucked the thought away somewhere behind his head and offered the photographer a warm smile.

“You’ve met Joshua.”

“Yes of course,”

A twinge of pain struck his chest. Wonwoo hadn’t really taken much notice of Joshua on their first meeting but the man was as pretty as a picture, with kind eyes and pristine, immaculate facial features. He held himself in a dignified manner, with an air of elegance that none could ever mirror. Wonwoo could feel Mingyu’s stare burning through his face.

“Such a pleasure,” he greeted.

“Pleasure is mine. I’ve heard that you are an excellent photographer, it would be lovely if you could help us out at KM sometime,” Joshua suggested with a radiant smile.

“I’m deeply gratified, thank you for the opportunity,” the brunet gave his _date_ ’s hand a squeeze, “If I may, I would like to introduce Junhui, he’s been reigning on the covers of Dazed and High Cut,”

Mingyu and Junhui exchanged hard stares. Wonwoo knew they were acquainted, but their relationship was visibly strained. Junhui was considered an amateur in the industry with a common, monotonous background unlike Mingyu, but they both had remarkable passion for their work. For some reason, they just didn’t get along well.

“Ah yes, you previously worked in Esteem,” Mingyu recalled coolly, before taking a sip from his glass, “Seungcheol’s mentioned you a couple of times. Top of your class, best model on the runaway,”

The name rolled off his tongue like poison, leaving a bitter taste in Junhui’s mouth. He tightened his grip on Wonwoo’s hand, and the brunet winced from the severity of his strength. Junhui collected himself with a strained smile and accepted a fresh flute of champagne from an attendant.

“You flatter me, _sir_. I could say the same about you. Kim Mingyu, the **beau idéal** of Elle 2016, dominating the runaway again. Must feel pretty good,”

Mingyu froze.

 

The glaring LED lights and panels dimmed, leaving streams of sunlight strewing across the room. Dried crisp autumn leaves and blooming flowers scattered over their feet, with a mess of equipment behind the scenes. Wonwoo perched upon a tall wooden stool, browsing through the images on the luminous monitor. Satisfaction swelled inside his chest.

The printer began spitting out glossy pictures of his subject, cladded in nude tones and adorned with baby’s breaths. He leafed through the photographs, regarding a page with particular interest and setting it aside with a note slapped against the surface. Mingyu shrugged out of his coat, approaching the male with some chamomile tea.

“Beau idéal of 2016?” he questioned in amusement.

The brunet glanced up from his work with a smile, gingerly tucking a selection of images into a folder. “Yeah, isn’t it fitting? That’ll be the cover of Elle this month. You look amazing,”

“Mm, the camera crew did most of the work.”

Wonwoo _is_ the camera crew.

A breathless fit of laughter flickered past his plush tiers, and it was a lovely sound. Wonwoo wasn’t particularly open to expressing his emotions at times and when he did, Mingyu could feel his heart clench and surge in his chest. The model appraised the prototype images attentively, warming himself with the steaming tea.

“Who came up with the nickname?”

“I did,” Wonwoo proclaimed, moving on to inspect the prints of other models, “The editors gave their agreement too. Do you like it?”

“I love it,” and the blonde landed a peck on his cheek.

Wonwoo could feel his face heating up from the gesture and he lowered his head, distracting himself with the photographs. He craned his neck to take a peek at his boyfriend, who was grinning stupidly and thumbing through the prints distractedly.

“Dummy,” he muttered breathlessly.

 

Wonwoo gave Junhui’s hand a firm squeeze and cleared his throat. “Well, I suppose we should get going now. It was such an honour meeting you, Joshua.”

“Likewise,” the young man exclaimed with a guileless smile, “I hope to see you again.”

The brunet dipped his head in a quick bow and instantaneously receded from view, melting into the crowd while tugging his _date_ alongside with him. He could feel the sweat building up and drenching his dress shirt. Wordlessly, they flumped into Wonwoo’s worn out Mazda and embarked on a silent ride home.

A tiny flame fluttered to life, and thick smoke began billowing within the confines of the vehicle. Junhui shoved the cigarette between his lips, eyes fluttering shut as the strokes of wind soothingly caressed his cheeks. Wonwoo tightened his grip on the wheel and exhaled deeply, pulling up at the traffic light.

“You don’t like him?”

“I don’t. Even if you are booty calling him,”

“ _Why_?”

“Anyone who associates themselves with Choi Seungcheol–” he paused to recover his senses, “can never be good news,”

Wonwoo furrowed his brows. “What’s the story?”

Junhui took a long drag from the cigarette.

 

A light beep resonated through the room, followed by the swipe of a card and the door swinging open and shut wildly. Wonwoo crossed the hotel suite in large rapid strides, approaching the young male seated by the window with inexplicable ire burning in his eyes. The latter silently acknowledged him, swirling the wine in his glass.

“What the _hell_ were you doing today?” Wonwoo demanded to know, “Trudging around, showing off your husband? Is that what you were doing? Making me feel like crap?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Mingyu pushed him out of his seat and stepped closer towards his lover until they were barely a hair’s breadth away from one another, “You _know_ that’s not it,”

Mingyu had a certain authoritative air, exerting hints of assertion and dominance that easily positioned himself in the industry. He was highly respected and feared, but Wonwoo has never been afraid of this man. He fell in love with every bit of Mingyu, revelled under his unyielding, stern gaze and stood tall whenever they were in conflict.

“Then what was it?”

“I just wanted to see you.”

“Be honest with me, I’m not playing games with you right now,” he snapped.

“It’s the truth!” Mingyu raised his voice momentarily, clenching his fists, “I _saw_ you from my peripherals. You were being all cosy with Wen Junhui.”

The name dribbled with venom and malice from his lips.

“I was not,” Wonwoo clarified irritably, “I work with him; we have been friends for years,”

“He clearly **likes** you!”

“Stop being ridiculous, you are overthinking things. He _clearly_ doesn’t.”

“Oh, really?” Mingyu narrowed his eyes scornfully at the other, “How many times have you slept with him?”

The question struck him in the middle like a rock, and he swallowed thickly. “That’s none of your business.”

Mingyu scoffed. “Great to know that you’ve been sleeping around while I was gone,” he uttered mockingly, resentment boiling inside of him at the revelation.

Wonwoo gritted his teeth, shoving his hands against the other’s chest to throw him off his feet. “You think you’re any better?” he shouted, “You **left** me, Mingyu. To marry this hot, rich young model who’s way more attractive than I am. How the fuck do you think that makes me feel?”

“I was forced to. And he’s not even half as attractive as you are!” Mingyu countered angrily.

“Oh, like you would know, **beau idéal** of 2016,” he spat bitterly, “Fuck off.”

“Yeah, I would, because I know Joshua thoroughly in and out, and we are married. But he will never be half as beautiful as the man I fell in love with. I’m in love with you, not him. He can never ever compare to you.”

The brunet could feel his knees growing weaker by the second, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes and exhaustion weighing him down to the bones. Mingyu swept in closer to his lover, grabbing him by the neck and connecting their lips for a feverish kiss. Tingles surged through his body.

“Don’t give your heart to anyone else,” Mingyu whispered into the kiss with bated breath, his willowy, deft digits scrambling to unravel his clothing.

“ _Never._ ”

And they tumbled back onto the mattress.

 

Joshua pulled out the crinkled piece of notepaper, examining the messy scribbles of locations and directions with a frown. He tucked it back into his jean pocket and peered out of the tinted windows. A grand, monumental hotel greeted his sight, rocketing into the clouds and sparked alive with lights.

“Is this where Mingyu is?” he asked in a soft, hesitant tone.

The suited young man nodded, albeit reluctantly.

“Yes, sir.”


	8. part eight

The brunet slouched against the headboard of the mattress, white covers enveloping his bare frame and perspiration beading on his forehead. A strong stench of red wine invaded his nostrils and he scrunched his face in disdain. Tiny sighs of exhaustion flickered past his couplets and his eyes swept across the room, landing on his lover.

Mingyu stationed himself in front of the full length mirror, fastening the buttons of his dress shirt and appraising his countenance with a blank expression. He looked much younger without his hair slicked, bangs soft and brushing against his eyelids. Much less of an important director and more of a young, aspiring model…just like he was, two years ago.

“I’ll see you when I land,” he muttered, striding towards the bed to kiss his lover farewell, “Be careful, alright?”

“Yeah, you too. See you later,” the younger hummed, fingers mindlessly tracing over Mingyu’s chest, “I love you.”

Mingyu smiled.

“I love you too.”

 

Joshua flinched in place, drawing himself closer into his seat at the corner of the lobby. His eyes widened a smidge at the sight of _his_ husband casually strolling out from the elevator, departing from the hotel with a household butler by his hip. He jumped out of the armchair, hands trembling by his sides, refusing to tear his eyes away in utter disbelief.

Mingyu stepped into a posh, luxurious cab awaiting his arrival outside, and the car rumbled away quickly into the darkness of the night, leaving behind a wisp of lights and dust. Joshua clenched his teeth, whipping out his phone to punch in a few numbers. He composed himself with a deep breath, heart thrumming in his ears as the dial tone beeped monotonously.

“ _Hey, what’s up?_ ” Mingyu’s voice crackled over the receiver.

He feigned a smile, fidgeting skittishly in the middle of the quiet lobby. “Just wondering if you’ll be coming home tonight?”

“ _Right, I forgot to tell you. I’m taking the next flight to Gwangju tonight; I’ll be home on Friday. Don’t worry too much; it’s just a conference meeting_.”

Joshua glanced over his shoulder and all the breath was knocked out of his chest.

“Oh. Take care.”

A familiar face emerged from within the elevator. It was the young photographer prodigy they had stopped to greet this evening, at the fashion event. His features were sharp and striking, in contrast with his lanky limbs and awkward behaviour. He hastened out of the hotel, hopping into his car with a light backpack of belongings.

A hollow sensation broke open within his chest. Joshua fumbled about with his phone, dialling another number and storming out of the hotel to the limousine awaiting in the parking lot. “It’s me. Check if my husband and Jeon Wonwoo have booked a flight for Gwangju tonight.”

“Jeon Wonwoo, sir?” the voice over the call reiterated hesitantly after a short pause.

“Yes, and hurry up,” he snapped irritably.

 

The young brunet stepped out of the cab and straightened out his blazer, fidgeting skittishly. He glanced around and waves of nostalgic fondness rippled through his chest. A majestic marble fountain graced the lawn, water spurting from the open palms of the sculptured porcelain angels roosting upon the fountain and splashing into the crystalline pool beneath.

The mansion was sleekly designed and caked in ivory paint with a peaked grey roof, tilting steeply over the edges. It was set aglow with calming orange lights, hundreds of windows peppering the walls of the structure and curtained by thin white fabric. He entered the grand edifice, two grand staircases curling down towards the round foyer.

“Sir,” a butler approached him with a warm smile and a tray perched upon his gloved palm, “It’s been awhile.”

“Yukhei, you are looking as good as ever,” Wonwoo laughed, selecting a glass from the tray, “How would you like to model for me? You could definitely be on the cover of Vogue,”

“That would be amazing. I’ve manged to land a few modelling jobs thanks to the young sir, it would be ideal if I’m invited to Seoul for a huge gig but I might have to leave my job if I do, and I’m quite attached to it.”

“Won’t you take pictures of me instead?”

Wonwoo gazed over his shoulder, finding himself face to face with his gorgeous young lover, decked out in a cotton grey shirt and clean cut navy blazer. He cleared his throat, cheeks warming from the intensity of Mingyu’s gaze burning into his. Yukhei straightened up instantly and offered the man a glass of wine.

“Mingyu, sir.”

“Yukhei,” he greeted, taking a swig from the glass, “I have plans on recruiting you to my company.”

He seemed enthusiastic, his face lighting up from the generous offer.

“Stealing away my man, Mingyu?”

All eyes turned towards the dignified, urbane man descending the stairs. The living embodiment of perfection swept down the marble steps, with awestriking and pristine features. Cutting cheekbones, dishevelled peachy locks and mesmerising crepuscular orbs with an enchanting, mellifluent voice.

Yoon Jeonghan was the CEO of Princely, a popular line of fashion magazines featuring the most alluring, aesthetic faces in Seoul. With his beautiful face and charming antics, he easily built himself a platform and earned an untouchable status amongst the rich and famous, expanding his vast connections to solidify himself in society.

He was good with his words and could have you wrapped around his finger in seconds. At twenty four, he had seduced hundreds of men and women, remarried five times and was currently pursuing a man who was nothing but bad news. Jeonghan revelled being the centre of attention; holding dinners and parties and making himself home with company.

“Jeonghan,” a warm smile graced Mingyu’s features, “Still rocking it, I see.”

“So are you. Heard that you stirred things up quite abit during the Seoul Fashion week, having disappeared for two years and whatnot,” he attached his grip onto the handrail to guide himself down the stairs, a shimmering diamond gleaming over his slender fingers.

He laughed. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, we have all night to talk about it,” Jeonghan chattered excitedly, flouncing towards them with his arms wide open, “Wonwoo, my lovely boy. You’re looking fantastic. How have you been? Come give me a hug.”

The brunet relented, rather bashfully, and gave him a peck on the cheek. Working in this industry really opened up doors to meeting eccentric people. Jeonghan was no different. The young man led them through the mansion, gushing with models and actors mingling and engaging in light chatter, and rounds of champagne and cocktails going around the ballroom.

Jeonghan would halt his steps to clink glasses with some of his guests, and kept moving swiftly at the speed of light. Light jazz music breezed through the crowd and gradually dissipated into thin air as they kept passing through door after door. He led them into a drawing room, and Yukhei bolted the doors and kept watch outside.

“So, you said over the phone that you needed some assistance, Mingyu,” Jeonghan snatched hold of a bottle of light beer, plopping onto the couch opposite them and taking a huge gulp, “What about?”

Mingyu and Wonwoo shared a brief glance.

“I’m aware that you have…contacts, that could help us get out of here and disappear, if need be when the time comes.”

Jeonghan raised a brow. “Did you get in trouble with the mafia or something?”

“Just my dad,” Mingyu shrugged.

“Yeah, _exactly_ ,” the man scoffed, “What did you do?”

“Oh c’mon Jeonghan, you are literally the centre of news and gossip. You _know_ what I did.”

The man smiled knowingly. “Just the gist of it. I just didn’t know that things were that bad.”

“Well, they are. My dad is threatening Wonwoo’s life. If things don’t work out…it’s vital that we have a one way ticket out of here, and fast. We thought that you might know a guy.”

Jeonghan drew out a box of cigarettes, flicking it open with a heavy sigh.

“Yeah, I’m the guy.”


	9. part nine

Their fingers were tightly intertwined, resting upon Mingyu’s lap snugly. Wonwoo rested his head on his lover’s shoulder, taking in his scent. They were exhausted and mildly light headed from the beer and Jeonghan’s words. The noise was drowning in the distance. Guests were retreating from the party, leaving an eerie silence and jazz music in the air.

Jeonghan popped open another beer bottle for the umpteenth time that evening with flushed cheeks; a cigarette stick wobbling between his lips. He leaned back on the couch with a heavy sigh.

“Listen, I can’t stress how important this is,” Jeonghan explained, smoke fluttering past his pretty lips as he spoke, “But once you disappear from here, you can never come back again. I’m practically erasing you from existence.”

Mingyu wound an arm around his boyfriend, giving him a reassuring squeeze as Wonwoo drew in closer towards him with his eyes closed. He pressed a chaste kiss to Wonwoo’s crown and gazed out of the window; into a distance, where the stars dotted the skies and forests brimmed over the horizons.

“We both understand the ramifications,” he muttered, “I only need Wonwoo.”

Jeonghan released one last puff of smoke and shoved the cigarette butt against the ceramic ashtray to extinguish it. “Let me worry about the rest. I’ll start arranging the travel documents and identification for you.”

“Thank you Jeonghan,” Wonwoo whispered, “How can we repay you?”

He grinned.

“It’s cool, I owe Mingyu one anyway. Will you guys stay the night and join me for breakfast in the morning?”

“That would be lovely.”

 

The guestroom was quaint, generously furnished with silver furniture and a bed befitting an emperor. After a drowsy evening of wine and chocolate, they tucked into their bath robes and revelled in each other’s company out on the balcony, fervently kissing with their hands frantically searching for each other’s warmth.

A ring cut through the air sharply and Mingyu parted from the kiss, emitting a groan of exasperation at the unwanted interruption. Wonwoo leaned against the wrought iron rails, breaking out into a series of heavy pants. He tipped his head back and shifted under the robes sliding off his bare frame, eyes gradually fluttering shut.

Mingyu drew out his phone.

“This better be important, Hansol,” he barked, fluent English spilling from his lips, “Speak.”

“You could have said something if you were just gonna leave for more than a week,” the caller snapped irritably in return, “Do you have any idea how much workload you left here? Have mercy on your poor assistant, _boss_.”

Mingyu rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll give you a paid holiday when I get back. Are there any complications?”

The cursor hovered over the screen, browsing across the records listed out on the screen. He adjusted his round spectacles with furrowed brows.

“I’m not sure if this is of any relevance, but some of our company flight records had been erased and I thought it was suspicious so I tried to recover it. Apparently Joshua bought a plane ticket headed for Gwangju now?”

Mingyu froze.

“What?”

“Yeah, it says here that he left for Gwangju at around 1105pm.”

Fuck, he _knows_. Someone must have tipped him off. His grip on the phone tightened, and he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. Wonwoo secured his arms around his lover’s frame, gazing up at him in concern. Mingyu managed a weak smile, reaching up to brush the back of his hand against the younger’s cheek.

“I don’t have time to explain. Track his status and give me updates, pronto.”

“Yes, sir,” he promptly ended the call.

Mingyu pressed a kiss to Wonwoo’s forehead.

“Everything okay?” the brunet inquired softly, hands resting upon his chest.

“My fiancé knows something. He’s heading here now.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widened a smidge. “What? How did that happen?”

The man sighed heavily. He smoothed his large palms over Wonwoo’s cheeks and admired the latter’s beautiful features in adoration, enamoured by his gorgeous reflective eyes and peachy lips. They had searched for an escape in Gwangju, hoping to find some time alone to themselves, where they wouldn’t be found.

“My personal assistant is working things out. I’ll have to get some damage control done,” he murmured, gathering his lover into his arms, “I’m sorry for ruining our trip.”

“Hey, it’s alright. You didn’t,” Wonwoo landed a peck on his cheek with a comforting smile, “I love you.”

Mingyu could feel his heart clench, losing himself in the mesmerising twinkle in the other’s guileless eyes. He held him closer, burrowing his nose onto Wonwoo’s shoulder and exhaling heavily in content, drowning in his soothing warmth. Time seemed to stand still. All he could think about was how…happy he was.

“ _Mine_.”

 

The man regarded the photographs scattered across the mahogany desk with a heavy sigh of irritation, rubbing at his temples. He snatched up the phone and punched in some numbers, leaning back in the leather desk chair. Three beeps and a crackle, and a monotonous voice took over the line.

“Drop everything. Get him, _now_.”

 

Jeonghan propped himself against the handrail, gazing over the crowd pouring in through the doors and livening up the ballroom. He swept down the staircase with his young butler at his tail, cradling a flute of champagne in one hand and sweeping his gaze across the room sharply. He tipped the glass to his lips.

“We have some unexpected company tonight, it seems,” he observed, “Call the boys, Yukhei. I’m a little worried.”

“Right away, sir.”

Wonwoo and Mingyu swept down the room in handsome suits and silk ties, revelling in each other’s company with glasses of wine and linked arms. For a moment, they felt completely within their element. They were mere strangers within the crowd, loving one another and finding contentment, being with one another.

“Oh these are adorable,” Wonwoo cooed at the array of desserts, “Mingyu, look at the pink macaroons.”

No response. Wonwoo glanced up with a blink. Mingyu was staring across the ballroom, turning visibly and distinctly pale but struggling to keep himself composed. The younger followed his line of sight, freezing in place and growing noticeably frightened. _Oh god._ He slinked a step back.

Men in sunglasses and dark apparel were jostling through the crowd, approaching them in large urgent strides. Mingyu instantly grabbed hold of Wonwoo’s arm, tugging him behind his back in an attempt to keep him in safety. He straightened up, face turning grim as Seokmin manifested before him with his men.

“I was expecting you,” Mingyu muttered, “Didn’t know you’d turn up so soon.”

He shrugged. “My apologies, sir. As usual, I’m here under orders to take you back.”

“What if I say no?” he challenged.

“ _Mingyu_.”

Joshua stepped forward, heart thrumming in his chest as he laid his eyes on his husband. He held his breath – because, _oh_. They were together, as he had suspected. He curled his fists, tamping down the anger bubbling inside of him. Wonwoo lowered his gaze, seemingly guilty, and tucked himself against his lover’s back.

Mingyu maintained a stoic expression. “You’ve been following me,” he remarked.

“For good reason,” Joshua shot back, sounding uncharacteristically hostile.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured unapologetically, shifting his attention back to Seokmin, “I’m not going anywhere this time.”

A knowing smile curled the man’s lips.

“ _Oh_ , you are.”

A loud scream broke free from Wonwoo’s throat and Mingyu spun around, eyes blown wide open as his lover was snatched away from him in a flash. Two large men were dragging the thrashing male away, with a hand clasped over his mouth, and hasting out through the back door in a scuffle.

“ **No**!”

Mingyu gave chase but was instantly tackled onto the floor by Seokmin’s men, arms wrenched behind his back. He struggled in vain against them, tears threatening to well in his eyes as he shouted for Wonwoo helplessly. Joshua watched in horror at the events unfolding before him.

“Yukhei, move!” Jeonghan yelled, storming in as the guests began to flee from the ruckus.

The butler sprinted down the ballroom upon command with a team of suited young men and a vigorous brawl cropped up in an attempt to free Mingyu, who scrambled up to his feet and bolted out of the house. He jumped into Seokmin’s car, revving up the engine and swerving out onto the road, pursuing the car disappearing from sight.

His knuckles whitened on the wheel. _Please, please, please–_ His eyes were glassy from tears, and he couldn’t breathe. They couldn’t take Wonwoo. He would never see him again. God knows what they’d do to him. In a distance, he could see Jeonghan and Yukhei’s SUVs giving chase – thank God for them, he muttered silently.

Now he owes them one. Mingyu took a sharp turn, tailing one of the cars, and scrambled to search for his phone.

“ _Boss?_ ”

“Hansol, is network 3 active?”

“Yes, I’ve been keeping track. Apparently it was reactivated two days ago.”

“Figures. My father is coming after me. Tamper with the system, don’t leave any traces behind.”

“I got you. Be careful, Mingyu.”

“You too.”

He tossed the phone aside and shoved his foot against the gas pedal, speeding down the isolated road and gradually matching their speed. He abruptly turned the wheel, colliding with the vehicle and throwing them off. Jeonghan’s car whizzed past them and pulled to a stop in front, sealing off the road, and Mingyu could hear the wheels screeching behind him.

Yukhei jumped out of his car, striding towards the foreign vehicle and levelling his gun towards the driver’s window. He pulled open the door and fired three tranquiliser bullets, incapacitating the men at once. Mingyu dove forward and found Wonwoo curled up in the backseat, bound with ropes and gagged with a rag, dried tear tracks staining his cheeks and sweat beading his forehead.

“Oh God,” he whispered, gathering the shaking male into his arms and pulling him out of the car, making haste towards Jeonghan’s SUV with Yukhei at his tail.

“I’m getting you guys out of here now,” Jeonghan sped down the road without breaking his speed as Mingyu began frantically undoing the bounds on his lover, “There’s a kid I know in Busan, he’ll keep you guys safe for the time being.”

Wonwoo gasped heavily for air when the gag was finally removed, burrowing onto Mingyu’s chest and intertwining their fingers, wanting nothing but his boyfriend’s relieving warmth. He couldn’t stop _shaking_ and the tears cascaded down his cheeks like a waterfall, fear tearing through his veins.

“I’m sorry,” Mingyu murmured, terrified and cradling the other in his arms protectively, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, _I’m sorry_ –”

_I couldn’t protect you._


End file.
